


Steady As We Go

by sequence_fairy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura and Keith are roommates because I always want them to be friends in all things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, First Kiss, Hallowe'en party, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: Allura sighs, and shakes her bangs out of her eyes. “It’s acostume party, Keith,” she says, reaching up to adjust the cat ears perched on her head. “You have to go incostume.”“I don’t have to do anything,” Keith retorts, just to make Allura roll her eyes.“C’mon, don’t be a spoilsport.”“So I should go buy lingerie and wear animal ears like you?”Or: Keith gets dragged to a Hallowe'en party. Shiro is also there.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 174
Collections: Haunted VLD Exchange 2019





	Steady As We Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wincechesters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincechesters/gifts).

> Happy belated Hallowe'en my spooky darlings! 
> 
> Thanks to [Kika](https://twitter.com/B1ackPa1adins) for the beta and to the AP server for sprinting with me to get this finished.

“You’re going like that?” Allura says from where she’s standing in the bathroom door. Keith looks over his shoulder at her. She’s dressed in a white bodysuit, with a pale pink, lacy teddy over top and thigh high pink fishnet tights. On her head are a pair of pink cat ears and she’s wearing a pair of white stilettos Keith knows she blew almost her entire last paycheck on. She looks great, Keith thinks, in a purely aesthetic sense. Lance is going to lose his mind when he sees her. Keith kind of hopes he gets to watch his eyes bug right out of his head.

“Yeah, and what of it?” Keith asks. He looks back down at himself. Tight black jeans with the knees ripped out, his favourite grey henley, and a plaid flannel, buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks fine. He picked this plaid out especially for the party.

Allura sighs, and shakes her bangs out of her eyes. “It’s a _ costume party_, Keith,” she says, reaching up to adjust the cat ears perched on her head. “You have to go in _ costume_.” 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Keith retorts, just to make Allura roll her eyes. 

“C’mon, don’t be a spoilsport.” 

“So I should go buy lingerie and wear animal ears like you?” 

Allura laughs, throwing her head back. Keith grins. “No, you knob, just… try harder.” Allura pushes off the doorframe and crowds Keith closer to the sink, leaning in to check the wing of her eyeliner in the mirror. It’s perfect, which they both know she knows already, she’s just angling to get into Keith’s space because she can.

“Shiro’s gonna be there,” she says, like it means nothing to either of them. She swipes at the edge of her mouth, checking for smudged lipstick. She meets Keith’s eyes in the mirror, checking for his reaction. Keith doesn’t look away.

He can play this game too. “Pidge is bringing Lance.” 

Allura’s cheeks pinken under the whiskers she’s drawn on. “Shut up, Keith,” she says, and then leaves him alone in the bathroom. 

He can hear her heels clicking against the tile of their kitchen floor and then the sound of the fridge opening and closing. If Keith were a betting man, he’d say she’s probably doing another shot of tequila. They’d done one together before she’d left him on the couch earlier to start getting ready and he’ll probably need another one before they leave. How she ever managed to convince him to go to this stupid party, Keith will never know. Well. That’s a lie. Keith knows exactly how she convinced him. 

Keith brings one hand up to his hair so he can fiddle with his bangs. 

He lasts about thirty more seconds before he’s calling Allura back to the bathroom to help him figure out what to do on the costume front. Allura’s knowing grin is a price Keith will just have to pay. 

***

The party is wild already by the time they get there. Keith pushes open the door and steps in before Allura, only to find their way blocked by someone in an inflatable Stay Puft Marshmallow costume. 

“Hey,” Keith says, prodding at their shoulder, “move.” The marshmallow shifts forward, and Keith is able to push past. He reaches back for Allura, taking her hand in his and pulling her in after him. 

They get through the foyer and into the living area, and Keith takes a deep breath. The air smells like cheap weed and spilled booze and the combination of a hundred different kinds of perfume. People are everywhere, and in every state of dress and undress. Allura plasters herself to Keith’s back, hooking her chin over his shoulder as they survey the madness. 

“Drinks?” she yells into his ear over the deafening chorus of the Time Warp pounding out of the stereo in another room.

“Yeah,” Keith answers and reaches back for her hand again so he doesn’t lose her in the crowd. Allura squeezes her fingers around his. 

They thread their way through throngs of revelers, narrowly skirting a stumbling Groot who is being supported by a world-weary Captain America, looking for the kitchen. 

The kitchen, when they finally find it, like everywhere else, is absolutely packed. 

“Keith!” A person dressed entirely in green yells from the other side of the room. They reach up to tug off their mask and Keith can’t help his smile. 

“Pidge!” he calls back. 

Pidge shoves their way through the crowd towards them. They’re dressed in a full-coverage body stocking in lime green. Loose enough that it’s clear they’re wearing clothes underneath. Keith has no idea what they are supposed to be. 

“Here,” they say, when they reach the bit of space Keith has carved out for himself and Allura next to the kitchen table laden with cups and bottles and one bowl of chips. Pidge hands them each a cup full of something that is a shocking colour of blue. Keith looks down at it, wary. “Go on,” Pidge suggests, and whoops loudly when Allura lifts hers to her mouth and swallows the whole thing. 

“One for the money,” Keith deadpans, and knocks his whole cup back too. The whatever it is burns the whole way down, and warmth spreads all the way through his body. He shivers, involuntarily. It tastes horrible.

“Ugh,” Allura complains, “that’s terrible.” 

“I know,” Pidge says brightly, “it’s awful. Makes you want another one, doesn’t it?” 

“I don’t know about that,” Keith disagrees, but Pidge is already threading their way back through the crowd. He turns to Allura. One of her whiskers is smudged near the end. She shrugs. 

“We should find Lance,” Keith suggests, leaning up close so he can speak directly into Allura’s ear. He can feel the heat of her flush as he says it. 

“I need at least two more before that,” Allura says. 

“Two more!” Pidge declares, cackling. Allura takes the proffered drink, taps the edge of her cup with Pidge’s and they both drink. Keith sips his. 

***

Keith’s not sure how much time has passed, but he lost Allura to the mob of people on the makeshift dance floor as soon as they found Lance, and Pidge disappeared a while back with their friend Hunk, so now he’s standing on the back deck, leaning against the railing, staring up at the light pollution-hued clouds. His mostly empty cup dangles between his hands. 

Someone nudges his shoulder. Keith jumps, dropping his cup. The mix splashes on his feet and Keith grimaces. His shoes are going to smell like cheap booze forever. Beside him, Shiro laughs. 

“Nerves of steel, eh?” Shiro says, nudging Keith’s shoulder again. 

“Shut up,” Keith retorts, but he’s already smiling. He turns to look at Shiro, and immediately has to look again. 

Shiro’s dressed, Keith thinks, as some kind of pirate. He’s wearing an eye patch, but pushed up so it doesn’t cover either of his eyes, a pair of almost indecently short cut off jean shorts, a pair of sandals, and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. He’s got a gold hoop in one ear, and it catches the light when he lifts his cup to his mouth. Keith drags his eyes away from the line of Shiro’s throat as he swallows. 

“What kind of pirate wears flip-flops?” Keith asks, instead of reaching out to touch Shiro’s chest, which is a near thing, and Keith is very proud of himself for resisting. Shiro’s wearing nothing under his shirt, and the shorts are riding very low on his hips. Keith doesn’t think there’s a whole lot on under them either. 

“I dunno, man,” Shiro says, “Matt said I had to dress up, this is what I had.” He reaches up to scuff a hand through his hair. His bangs fall into the kind of unconscious artful disarray Keith always wishes his own hair would do. “Anyway, what’re you supposed to be?” 

“A scene kid who died in 2005,” Keith deadpans, leaning forward so his bangs will drop down further into his face. He’d caught a look at himself in the bathroom mirror when Allura had finished with his eyeliner, and Keith thinks maybe he missed his true calling as an emo brat. But eyeliner is also a pain in the ass and he thinks he would probably only succeed in poking himself in the eye rather than make it look as good as she has done. He tells Shiro this, very seriously.

Shiro laughs. The sound makes warmth bubble up in Keith’s stomach. Though, that might also be the four cups he’s had of whatever the fuck Pidge was making in the kitchen. 

“Well, regardless,” Shiro says, voice coloured with mirth, “you look great.” 

“You too,” Keith says. The truth is, Shiro always looks great, but something about this combination today is really working for him. “Need another drink?” Keith asks, gesturing to Shiro’s cup. 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, setting his empty cup down on the railing. “Lemme come with you, if we get separated I’ll never find you again. This place is a madhouse.” 

***

The party is still going strong when Keith surfaces once more from the haze of the jungle juice to find himself sitting practically in Shiro’s lap on a couch in the basement. Shiro’s arm is tight around his waist, and his head is buried against Keith’s shoulder, his laughter shaking through both of them. 

“And then,” Lance says, from the other couch, “Hendrick says ‘I can’t eat that, it’s got eyes!’.” 

The group erupts with more laughter, and Keith joins in, even though he absolutely has missed the rest of the joke. Shiro’s warm against him, and solid, so solid. Keith’s hand is resting on Shiro’s thigh, just above the hem of his shorts. Shiro lifts his head when Keith flexes his hand, because now that he’s noticed where his hand is, it seems like it's not something you do with someone who you are sort of crushing on but don’t really know all that well. Though, to be honest, Keith probably should also not be sitting in Shiro’s lap and he’s doing that, so perhaps he’s just fucked either way.

“You good?” Shiro asks, low and almost directly into Keith’s ear. 

“Yeah,” Keith rasps. He is so good. He can smell the spice of Shiro’s cologne and the fresh scent of the shampoo he uses. He could probably stay here all night. Shiro doesn’t need to know that, though. 

“You’re welcome to stay there as long as you like,” Shiro rumbles, and Keith jolts.

“Ah,” he says. Embarrassment curls in a hot prickle up the back of his neck. Shiro lifts his head enough to smile at Keith and now the flush is for an entirely different reason.

Across the table, Allura giggles. Keith turns to look at her, and catches the moment that Lance leans in to whisper something else into her ear. Allura’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Keith looks away. 

Shiro leans a little more heavily into Keith, pushing him back against the arm of the couch. Keith looks down at him, and brings one hand up to touch the short hair near the base of Shiro’s skull. It’s soft under his fingers. Shiro hums into Keith’s chest. 

Upstairs, the music turns off abruptly. 

“Uh oh,” Pidge says into the sudden silence. Beside them, Hunk makes a worried face. 

“Pidgeon!” Matt’s voice rings down the stairway. “We gotta go!” 

It’s a mad dash after that.

***

The seven of them crash into Allura and Keith’s place at a little after 2am. It’s a tight fit. 

“Jesus,” Keith sighs, as he leans against the counter in their tiny galley kitchen. 

“That was fun,” Matt agrees, digging through Keith’s fridge to find something. He comes up with a bottle of water. “Aha!” he crows, before twisting off the cap and drinking the entire thing. His alligator onesie is looking a little worse for the wear of running through a neighbourhood and then trundling along a damp sidewalk once they’d gotten far enough away. 

“I love you all very much,” Allura says, from the living room, “but you can’t all stay here.” 

“It’s cool ‘Lura,” Hunk slurs, “Matt and Pidge’ll call an Uber and I’ll crash on their couch.” 

“Oh we will, will we?” Pidge says, and then there’s a sound like someone being smothered. Matt meets Keith’s eyes over the open fridge door. They share a grin.

“Alright, enough,” Matt says, closing the fridge loudly. “We’ll get out of your hair, Allura.” 

Allura and Lance see them off, standing in the doorway waving as the Uber pulls away. Keith sinks down on the couch next to Shiro, who is staring at the ceiling, blinking slowly and carefully. 

“You gonna be sick?” Keith asks, “because if you are, I’d rather you not do it on the couch.” 

“No,” Shiro says, tipping his head forward. He smiles at Keith. “Just sleepy. Should call myself a ride home.” 

“Or,” Keith starts, handing Shiro the bottle of water he’d pulled out of the case stashed next to the fridge on his way to the couch. Shiro twists off the cap and takes a long pull. “You could stay here.” 

“Keep it PG in the living room,” Lance snarks, but he has his arm around Allura’s waist. She’s listing heavily into him. All of her whiskers are smudged now.

“You keep it PG in the living room,” Keith replies, eyeing the way Allura’s other hand has disappeared behind Lance and Shiro snorts. At the same time, Lance jumps and throws a scandalized look at Allura, who looks up at him with the kind of smile that Keith has learned means trouble is going to happen momentarily for anyone on the other side of it.

“We’re going to bed,” Allura declares. “I will not be wearing ear plugs.” 

Keith’s face heats. Lance trails after Allura down the hall towards her bedroom, and Keith hears the sound of her door closing and then the telltale _ snick _ of the lock. He exchanges a glance with Shiro. Both of Shiro’s eyebrows are raised, almost comically high. 

“She’s something,” Shiro says, finally, and Keith can’t help it. He breaks, and soon enough, he’s curled over himself on the couch, gasping for air around his laughter. Shiro joins in, leaning into Keith as he laughs. 

“Try living with her,” Keith says, wiping his eyes when he finally manages to get himself back under control. Shiro sighs. “I was serious,” Keith says, after a moment. “I mean, before, when I said you could stay? You don’t have to leave.” 

“I should though,” Shiro says. He doesn’t look like he wants to go, and Keith decides to throw caution to the wind while also throwing Shiro a line.

“I’d like it,” Keith pauses, swallows, clutches at the bottle of water between his hands, and looks Shiro in the eyes. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

Shiro’s smile is a slow bloom. “If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely.” Keith pops up off the couch and makes for the hallway, only to stop when he realises Shiro hasn’t followed him. He turns. “I meant, like, _ with me_,” he says, looking meaningfully down the hall.

“Oh,” Shiro says, then, “_oh_.” 

“C’mon, I’ve probably got something that you can wear,” Keith says, when Shiro pushes himself up off the couch. 

“I dunno about that,” Shiro says, reaching out and spanning Keith’s waist with his hands. The metal fingers of his prosthetic are cool against Keith’s skin. Keith avoids looking down at what he is sure is a devastating display of how big Shiro’s hands are. He’s not sure he could handle it at this moment. Shiro holds him steady and Keith turns in Shiro’s grip so he can look up at him. 

It’s a mistake, Keith decides, as soon as he does it. Shiro’s looking down at him, and their eyes meet. 

“I really like the eyeliner,” Shiro says, letting go of Keith with one hand to touch the edge of one of the wings. “It makes your eyes stand out.” 

“Uh,” Keith says, intelligently. He’s not sure he can be entirely blamed though, since Shiro’s hand is fitted against his jaw, tilting his face up so Shiro can get a better look at his makeup. Keith swallows. Shiro’s earring glints in the corner of his vision. Keith licks his lips, mouth suddenly drier than the desert he grew up in. 

Shiro’s gaze drops to Keith’s mouth and then comes back up to meet his eyes. 

“My room’s down here,” Keith says, his voice only a little strained, which he takes as a win. Shiro hums in what Keith thinks might be agreement, but he makes no move to take his hand off Keith’s waist and instead slides the hand against Keith’s face back, so his fingers are pushed into Keith’s hair. 

Shiro leans down, and Keith meets him in the middle without letting himself think about it. 

Shiro’s mouth is warm, and he tastes like cheap beer. Keith presses forward, leaning up to slot their mouths together better. Shiro’s hand at his hip grabs on, and the fingers in Keith’s hair tighten. Keith gasps a little at the tingle in his scalp and Shiro swipes his tongue along Keith’s bottom lip. The kiss deepens. 

Keith’s hands slide up Shiro’s back, underneath his shirt, feeling the shift of muscle beneath his palms. He wants to be closer. Shiro’s metal thumb finds the space between Keith’s henley and his belt, and the drag of it against his skin makes Keith break out in goosebumps all over. He shivers. Shiro hums into his mouth, a different sound than before, one that has intent behind it. It makes Keith a little weak in the knees and he stumbles into Shiro a little. 

Shiro pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against Keith’s. He’s a little breathless and Keith is gratified. He leans up again, this time to press a kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth. Shiro makes a noise of dismay when Keith steps out of his grip. 

“C’mon,” Keith says, reaching back for Shiro’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Shiro squeezes his hand against Keith’s and Keith pulls him down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come and chat with me about my fic on [tumblr](http://sequencefairy.tumblr.com) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/warpspeed_chic).


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